James opened the door for me, and I climbed in as gracefully I could, settling into the soft leather seat. As he got in the driver’s side, he flicked me a look. His mouth turned up at the corner and he reached across to squeeze my hand. It was almost like he couldn’t believe I was there with him.

That made two of us.

As he turned his attention to driving and deftly pulled away from the kerb, I noticed two things. First, James smelled divine. It was the same scent he’d worn in Greece—sunshiny, citrusy and manly. And second, it was a spectacular day in London, which anyone who lives there will tell you, is super rare in early September.

It was sunny, with bright puffs of clouds dotting an azure sky. Glancing at the dashboard, I saw it was 26°C outside—practically a heatwave in London terms, but I was both delighted and relieved. I was wearing a floaty Alannah Hill dress and I didn’t want to freeze to death, or inadvertently flash my bum because of a chilly gust of wind.

“So, how was the end of your trip?” James asked.

You mean the end of my trip where I slept with Josh and maybe fell for him a little and then made plans to see him in a few months? That?

He obviously didn’t know how much of a loaded question he’d asked. He glanced at me, still smiling, and this was when a normal person would reply. I’d have to gather my wits.

“It was lovely. Um, yeah, the last stop, Mykonos, that was, uh, really lovely.” Hardly an eloquent response, but my dastardly wits had abandoned me. How could I avoid talking about one would-be suitor to the other without sounding like a twit?

“Was Mykonos your favourite island?”

“No. I mean, I liked it. It’s beautiful—all the islands were—but I think I liked Naxos best.”

Oops. Naxos was where James and I had officially met, where we’d gone on that sort-of date and where he’d kissed me. It was also where he’d asked me what was going on between me and Josh. I had played it down at the time, but things with Josh had progressed since then and I needed to redirect this conversation—pronto.

“Uh, we had an incredible lunch there at this tiny café with no name.” Food was a safe topic, right?

“One of Duncan’s gems?” Phew. Another safe topic—Duncan.

Relieved that I’d steered the topic away from my romantic entanglements, I leapt back into the conversation with gusto. “Yes, exactly! He seemed to know all these great, out-of-the-way places. And in busy towns, we’d come across a row of restaurants—they’d look exactly the same, but he’d know the best one to eat at, every time. He never steered us wrong.”

“He’s great with local knowledge, always has been.”

“How did you end up hiring him?” Duncan had once worked for James, skippering James’s boat in the Caribbean.

“He answered an advertisement. He was qualified and as soon as I met him, I liked him. It was a good fit.”